


Outsider

by AlamoGirl80



Category: Fringe
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-01-05
Updated: 2008-01-05
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlamoGirl80/pseuds/AlamoGirl80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie Francis wonders if his place by her side has been usurped.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Outsider

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I claim no ownership or rights to using characters, names or anything contained within the show Fringe. I'm only playing in the creator's sandbox for fun, and will return all my toys nice and clean when I'm done.
> 
> **A/N**: This was written for Yuletide 2008 for Lady Ganesh. I also dedicate this story to my spectacular beta, **Chichuri** as a birthday prezzie (although now it's belated posting, sorry Susan!) With out her help, this story would have never been accomplished. Also thanks to beta **Celia Stanton** for her continued support. Enjoy and let me know how I did!

The sun hangs low on the horizon, its rays casting long shadows on the ground and its colors spraying the sky in deep reds and oranges like a last gasp of life before giving way to night. Harvard’s campus teems with life. Students congregate in groups; some sit on benches chatting, while others move around the landscape. The halls of the Kresge building are vacant, however, and the echo of his footfalls gives Charlie Francis an ominous feeling.

His pace is quick – hurried, almost. The file in his hands has been flipped open and thumbed through so many times on the ride over that he thinks he probably knows the three pages of text by heart. But it isn’t that the information is of life or death importance. That’s not why Charlie keeps reading it over and over. Really, he grudgingly admits to himself, it’s to occupy his mind and keep him from fidgeting. He’s agitated and not sure why. He nears the door to the lab and pauses, looking down at the papers in his hand.

It could have waited. Hell, he could’ve sent the background information she needed through Agent Farnsworth. Why did _he_ think he had to race over to the lab like knew he location of Jimmy Hoffa’s grave?

_Because you haven’t seen her in days, that’s why_. Charlie sighs through his nose at that thought.

It was a dumb excuse, but the only one he had. He hadn’t seen Olivia in several days because of the case she had been working with her…_other_ team. So, Charlie had leaped at the chance to check in with her when she called and asked him to track down some information. No hurry, she just needed it when he could get to it.

Less than an hour later, here he is, offering in hand and a chagrined feeling twisting in his gut. He missed her. It shouldn’t be that hard to admit. He wants to make sure she’s okay. That she’s not overloading herself again, taking on too much weight and responsibility that she’ll inevitably later use to self-flagellate should something go wrong. He needs to look her in the eye to be able to tell if she’s not sleeping. This isn’t something he can deduce over the phone, as she hides the fatigue in her voice too well. And Charlie doesn’t trust that her new team will know what to look for – the signs that she’s nearing her breaking point – and call her on it. They don’t understand that watching Olivia Dunham’s back is more than just making sure no one gets the drop on her in dicey situations.

Charlie walks into the lab and takes a moment to survey his surroundings. It’s probably silly, but this place still gives him the creeps. Gene lows a greeting to the newcomer, and Charlie, again, wonders what kind of circus his friend has gotten herself into.

_Thrown herself into is more like it_, he thinks.

He hears singing. Walter Bishop is in the far corner of the lower level of the lab, bent over what looks like a metal box with wires growing from it. His eyes are shielded by goggles, giving him a decidedly bug-like appearance, and he’s singing “_White_ _Christmas_.”

Charlie watches, eyes narrowed in confused curiosity while blue and red sparks intermittently fly out of the metal box that Walter is sunk in up to his elbows. They seem to spark in time with the melody the doctor is humming.

His eyes sweep over the whole of the lab for a moment – the odd menagerie of mechanical devices that range in age from state of the art to dinosaurs from the ‘70s. There are cages with furry creatures scurrying around inside, flasks of boiling liquids that no one seems to be watching, and bits of God knows what in Petri dishes laying out alongside someone’s forgotten lunch. It’s visual chaos, and Charlie doesn’t understand how _anyone_, sane or otherwise, can accomplish anything in this lab. And since when does a science lab need a _piano_, anyway?

Wondering why Dr. Bishop is suspiciously lacking his ‘adult’ supervision, Charlie looks around before spying movement in Olivia’s hole-in-the-wall office to his left. He’s about to walk over when he sees Olivia and Peter exit the office. She walks out first, a broad smile across her face, and for a split second Charlie doesn’t quite recognize her. He hasn’t seen her smile like that in weeks. He’s been able to coax those grins out of her before, but lately they fade all too quickly.

Peter ambles out behind her, chuckling. The younger Bishop has a different air about him as well. His stand-offish demeanor seems to have ebbed, and now he looks downright comfortable. Peter leans in close to Olivia’s ear, murmuring something that elicits another dazzling grin, and Charlie feels a definite pinch in his gut. Then, she pulls back and puts some discrete space between her and Peter, a move meant to be casual and unnoticed. Charlie recognizes this because she’s done it to him. Olivia’s body language always betrays the seriousness of her relationships.

With him, it’s _always_ friendship: comfortable, close, but no sparks. With John, they were careful – sly, sidelong looks, brushes of the hands that lasted longer than they should, flirtatious banter – but never anything overt. Yet Charlie could read between the lines very well; after all, he hadn’t been accepted into the FBI for being blind, deaf and dumb. Olivia always had this look of longing in her eyes when he caught her gazing toward John. He’s seeing the _hints_ of its beginnings again. He didn’t like it then, and he sure as hell doesn’t like it now.

Perhaps she came to her senses again when she shifted away. Remembered where all those “beginnings” got her the last time, and Charlie recognizes the almost imperceptible look of remorse on Peter’s face when he too sees that Olivia has shored up her walls again. Charlie’s spent years trying to climb those walls. Peter Bishop may be a genius, a jack-of-all trades, quite possibly a shark at the poker tables – but no way he gets in _those_ barriers so soon. Not after everything that’s happened.

Peter is just about to guide Olivia down the steps to the lower level, his hand going to the small of her back, when she glances over and sees Charlie.

“Hey, Charlie.” She moves away from Peter, and part of Charlie can’t help but want to give the younger man a smug look. Olivia’s voice is always warm when she says his name.

“Hey, Livvy. I got that background check you wanted.” He smiles as he hands her the file, takes a moment to revel in her attention before it’s stolen away again. “Looks like this guy had a few dealings with the Department of Defense, but I didn’t have clearance to get any details.”

Olivia looks through the pages for a moment, then frowns. “You didn’t have to come all the way over here with this. I have a fax machine.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t so sure about the safety of your connections down here in the dungeon, Liv. You might want to have your firewalls retuned and your phone lines checked for wire taps. You’re dealing in some pretty high level stuff that isn’t exactly mainline with the FBI’s _usual_ investigations.” He sees her considering his words and grins, “Course if you ever came back and actually _worked_ in your _office_ back at the federal building, you wouldn’t have to worry about those things.”

Her head bobs in agreement, then she smiles apologetically. “Still, I didn’t mean for you to have to play messenger.”

Damn. He shrugs nonchalantly, “I don’t mind. Besides, it gives me a chance to catch up with you. Haven’t seen you in a while. You’re always off chasing Frankenstein’s monster or something.”

At that, she smirks. “Yeah. Or something.” She nods to the file, “Thanks for doing this for me.”

“No problem.” Charlie’s mouth lifts into a half-smile. Olivia considers him for a moment, her face growing thoughtful.

“You’re a really good friend, Charlie. You know that, right?” She gives him the same easy smile she’d bestowed on Peter a few moments before.

He _should_ feel like returning her smile. He _should_ be perfectly content with her show of appreciation and declaration that she’s grateful for his ‘friendship’. A – _Don’t mention it. Any time, pal!_ – sort of thing. Because that is obviously the intent her words convey.

But what he feels is a sucker-punch to his stomach with all the force of a mule on steroids. Maybe it’s the soft, intimately warm tone of her voice, or how the evening sunlight through the windows catches her eyes and turns them an impossible green, but it’s all he can do to summon up a half-assed smile. His voice is too soft; the wind is thoroughly let out of his sails now. “Yeah, Liv. I know.” She holds his gaze and he holds hers for a moment longer. “I know.”

The spell is broken when Walter’s raised voice makes them both turn. He’s perfected the timing on his sparks with the words of his Christmas song.

“Where the tree- [_zap_] tops [_zap_] glisten [_zap_], and chil- [_zap_]-dren [_zap_] listen!” [_zap_] he croons.

Peter looks up from the laptop he’s been working on. “Walter. Volume _down_, please.”

“Peter! Wouldn’t it be wonderful if I could synchronize these electric synapse reactions to music? Like a light show for Christmas. I’ve always wanted to do that – a musical lightshow with the Christmas decorations.” Walter’s goggles are now pushed on top of his head like round antennae, and his white coat sleeves are singed.

Peter’s smile is genuine. Charlie realizes that somewhere along the line, the acerbic nature of Peter’s rebukes toward his father had softened. More amused, now, than frustrated. “Actually Walter, I think that’s already been done,” Peter says.

“Yeah,” Olivia chimes in as she walks away from Charlie to join the Bishops. Just before she gets to the steps, she gives him a crooked smile, before turning back to the doctor. “I think they have Christmas lights now that can be programmed to flash in rhythm with certain songs.”

Walter’s face is absolutely intrigued. “Really? That’s…that’s wonderful!”

Charlie watches Olivia move to stand beside Peter, leaning on the lab table as Walter continues to explain his theories on synchronizing harmonics and how some harmonic rhythms can actually interrupt the human electrical systems if produced loudly enough and at the right frequency. It’s amazing how she plays into the doctor’s crack-pot theories, encourages them, even. How she stands, seemingly in rapt attention while the old man rambles on. How she periodically exchanges knowing glances with Peter, as if they’re on the same wavelength.

He sees the subtle shift in Peter’s body toward Olivia, the slight lean in her direction. The younger Bishop looks to Olivia before he offers an opinion, as if seeking her support, and getting it. He sees the how Peter has a habit of making sarcastic comments designed to make Olivia smile, and that it _works_. After so short a time, Peter and Olivia seem to be showing signs of that unspoken communication that comes from working closely, side by side. Walter looks at the two of them like a teacher instructing his students, but who also seems to need their confirmation. And they both seem to be able to interpret Walter’s unique language. A language Charlie has no hope of understanding. It’s a sign that their team is coalescing around each other.

It becomes clearer, as Charlie watches Olivia immediately look to Peter for answers when Walter rattles off a theory that leaves his head spinning, that she considers Peter her stabilizer. She’s more comfortable with Peter’s position in her life now than she was in the beginning, and Charlie can’t help but feel like his place has been taken and he’s the odd man out. He’s an outsider, looking in the window on a team complete unto themselves. He feels silly just standing in the back of the lab, watching the trio talk amongst themselves, but he doesn’t feel like he can join in.

He should be honest with himself. He’s been missing Olivia since Broyles yanked her off the roster and gave her an assignment that was, for all intents and purposes, off the books. Part of him – a small, snide part of him – hopes that something will happen. That Doctor Bishop will finally prove that it’s not a circus he’s conducting but a side-show freak house, complete with monsters, boogiemen and himself as the Mad Hatter. That Broyles would be forced to shut the whole thing down, and send Olivia back to her rightful place at the FBI.

“Can I help you with anything, Agent Francis?” Agent Farnsworth is by his side and Charlie wonders how long he’s been standing there lost in thought.

He recovers. “No, no thanks. I was just dropping off something for Agent Dunham.”

Agent Farnsworth nods, and looks toward the Bishops and Olivia. “Should I tell her that you’re here, sir?” She looks at him as though unsure of what she should do or what he wants, and he has to smile.

He must look ridiculous standing in the background watching the other three people in the room like some creepy observer. “That’s okay, I’ve already talked to Liv.”

They both take a moment and consider the trio: Walter is jumping back and forth between the lab tables trying to explain two things at once; Peter and Olivia try to catch bits of equipment as Walter flits around, waving his arms as he explains and knocking things over. It’s like a dance – a manic dance the three seem to have learned – Peter and Olivia trying to decipher Walter’s eccentricities while moving in some sort of rhythm with each other.

The question springs to his lips and out of his mouth before his brain catches up. “Do you think she’s safe here? With _them_?” His head motions toward Olivia and the Bishops.

He’s already mentally kicking himself before he even chances a sideways glance at the woman beside him. When he does turn, he finds her staring at him curiously. Agent Farnsworth looks back to the trio in the lab just as Peter has managed to calm Walter down and stop his flailing.

“I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

_Of course you don’t_, Charlie thinks. “I mean… they’re civilians. Not exactly trained to keep up with Agent Dunham in criminal investigations that take them outside this protected little nest of Dr. Bishop’s.” He sighs and watches Olivia leaning over the table to inspect something Walter is pointing to, nodding along with his explanation. “Who’s got her back around here?”

Agent Farnsworth is silent for a moment, considering her reply. “Agent Dunham is an important part of _why_ this team works. They need each other to get the job done, but they _do_… kind of… watch out for each other.” She leans conspiratorially toward Charlie while still observing the others. “See, Peter watches Walter – makes sure he remembers that he’s not in the crazy house anymore, but also makes sure that he knows that everything he’s working on now has a different purpose than the work he did in the past. That he’s not just running experiments to see if they’ll work; there are lives are at stake. That there are _real_ people we’re trying to help. Peter also watches over Olivia…”

Charlie shifts his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other when Agent Farnsworth mentions the part about Peter _watching over_ Olivia. He’d wanted to know who had Liv’s back, but he’s not content with the actual answer. Having the son of a mad genius, whose background is shady and whose dependability is highly questionable, being responsible for Olivia’s well-being doesn’t sit well with him.

Agent Farnsworth continues on through his thoughts, “He helps to rein her in when she gets too involved in cases. Reminds her that she can’t save everyone. Keeps her from being crushed under the load. I have a feeling you know what I mean.” She looks pointedly at Charlie and he nods.

Yeah. He knows that part of Olivia all too well. He’s been trying to get her to realize those things for a long time; now he knows he’s not the only one playing the part of Olivia’s keeper. And it shocks him that the less-than-trustworthy Peter Bishop has noticed this trait in Olivia and is doing something about it. Charlie knows Peter has a talent for a lot of things, but can he handle _this_ job description?

“Olivia watches out for Peter too,” Agent Farnsworth adds. “She reminds him that Walter isn’t all bad, that despite his insanity we _need_ him. And, I think she may not realize it, but Peter needs her to be his touchstone to the realm of sanity outside this lab, just as much as she needs him to remind her that she’s not alone in the fight.”

“And Walter?” Charlie asks, cautiously.

A thoughtful smile quirks her lips. “I think he needs the _both_ of them more than anything. Olivia has faith in him where Peter doesn’t. Peter has the whole ‘genius’ kinship thing with him, and even if he doesn’t want to admit it, I think he cares. And Walter _needs_ him to care. Frankly, without Walter’s knowledge a lot of people would have died already.”

Charlie mulls over her words and insight. He never realized the dynamic that was working between the three of them. “So where do you fit in?”

Her brows lift as she looks up at Charlie. “Me? Oh I’m just the assistant.” She turns back to the center of the lab as if that is all the explanation needed, and Charlie chuckles.

“You watch out for all three of them, don’t you?” he says.

Agent Farnsworth has the grace to look a little self-conscious, then shrugs. “Mostly I just make sure Doctor Bishop doesn’t blow himself up when Peter isn’t here or kill anyone he’s testing on. That’s a big enough job on its own.”

Charlie agrees. But part of him isn’t satisfied. If everyone has a part to play, then what’s his? He rubs his chin for a moment as he watches Olivia reading through the paperwork he’d given her, while she simultaneously keeps an eye on Peter and Walter.

“I think it’s good that Agent Dunham has you as a friend, sir.” Agent Farnsworth looks a little nervous after that statement, like maybe she overstepped her bounds with a superior agent, but he gives her a look to continue her thought. “I mean, you two have known each other for a long time, right? Agent Dunham needs someone who isn’t hip deep in the crazy stuff we have to deal with here everyday. Someone she can go to, to talk about things. Someone who knows her well, who she feels safe confiding in.”

Charlie feels like a fool. Sure, he’s pissed that she’s no longer working with him, and he feels like he doesn’t know half the shit he _should_ know about what’s been going on around here lately. Sure, he’s jealous of the time Peter gets to spend with Olivia, and that they seem to be well on their way to becoming some form of partners. Sure, he wishes he could press a reset button and go back to the time before Olivia and John started their affair, when they were just three agents and friends working together to make a difference. But he’s not quite the outsider he thought he’d become; there is still a place for him in her life.

Thinking back to the way she’d confided in him about seeing John, he realizes that he was stupid to question how she sees him. Just because he’s not around her more, doesn’t mean she needs him any less.

He’ll be her friend and confidant. He’ll be there to remind her that the job shouldn’t be her life. He’ll continue to worry about her sleep habits, if she remembers to eat during long cases, and he’ll offer to take her out for drinks to unwind afterward. He’ll continue to look out for her, watch her for signs that this new assignment is just too much and he’ll be the one to tell her just that if he has to. And on her birthday, he’ll be the one to stand quietly beside her if for no other reason than to let her know he’s there.

Charlie thinks that of all the responsibilities the team seems to share, his is the most important. Because _he_ is her closest friend. And of all the curves life has thrown at them lately, _that_ is the one thing that will never change.

**END**


End file.
